


Fixation

by notmykink



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Asphyxiation, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, and mild crying kink too i guess, i'm gonna stop now before i get embarrassed, well more like soft choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 14:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10618434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmykink/pseuds/notmykink
Summary: Hajime has always had a thing for Tooru’s fingers.





	

Hajime has always had a thing for Tooru’s fingers.

Tooru is a setter, after all, and nothing is as important as a setter’s hands. Hajime’s fascination with them had started with volleyball, with Tooru’s growth spurt happening before most of the other kids; his limbs, hands and feet too big for him for quite some time. Even when he grew into it, his hands never really seemed normal-sized, still bigger and longer than Hajime’s, something he is painfully aware of. Tooru’s fingers are long and slender, his hands elegant and his fingernails always kept meticulously clean and clipped for setting purposes. Big hands are good for a proper grip on the ball, but Hajime would be lying if he said that was the only use he could come up with for Tooru’s hands, not that he’d ever voice these ideas. 

Yet, part of him knows that Tooru is already somewhat aware of it and he’s not sure of what to do about that fact or if Tooru knows the extent to which Hajime thinks of his hands, but he’s not willing to take any chances just to find out.

Tooru indulges him too, sometimes – he’s extremely tactile by nature, loves combing his fingers through Hajime’s hair, letting his fingertips graze over Hajime’s underarms when they’re in public and in need of physical contact with each other, asking Hajime to tape his fingers when he needs help with his dominant hand before practice after already having taped his left one himself.

 

“You should take better care of your hands,” Hajime mumbles one day, sliding his fingertip over the calloused palm when Tooru puts his right hand in his, the sports tape reached out in his other hand.

“You know, I’ve had enough practice to tape my right hand myself by now, Iwa-chan,” Tooru replies tiredly, his work no longer crooked or hindering full mobility, and Hajime wonders if this is a threat, for Hajime to stop calling him out on his carelessness because Tooru knows he enjoys helping with this; for Hajime to stop acting like he’s only doing this for Tooru’s wellbeing and not because he enjoys it a little bit as well. 

Tooru probably knows this because Hajime always has a roll of sports tape from Tooru’s favourite brand with him in his bag at all times and because Hajime is always nearby when he knows Tooru needs help with this specifically – not that he hasn’t helped Tooru with other issues, like when bandaging his knee or in general one of them helping the other with whatever smaller injury they had obtained that week.

Hajime tests his luck anyway. “I’m just saying, maybe consider a hand cream or something,” he says when taping Tooru’s middle and ring finger together, grabbing around them to warm up the glue in the tape, making sure it dries quickly and holds properly. 

Tooru is squinting at him with that look of his, trying to figure out what Hajime means by those words and Hajime looks down at his hands again, letting go as Tooru flexes and bends his fingers to make sure he still has full mobility.

“ _ You _ don’t do that, you don’t even tape your fingers unless you really need it,” Tooru says, staring suspiciously at Hajime and Hajime  _ knows _ he’s on dangerous territory, so he takes a deep breath, deciding to let it go before admitting information to Tooru that he does not trust him with at all.

“I don’t have— Whatever, let’s get to work,” Hajime says, standing up from the bench and turning around, glancing across the court towards where most of the team is already warming up.

Tooru hums thoughtfully under his breath as he gets up and stands next to Hajime. “Let’s do that, yeah,” he says, obviously still considering whatever he has on his mind as he starts jogging towards the others. Hajime stares at his back for a while, his heart already beating faster in fear of Tooru already having realized just why Hajime is so interested in the wellbeing of Tooru’s hands.

 

Tooru is  _ very _ tactile and even more so, he enjoys being touched as well, often begging Hajime for back scratches, leaning his head up against Hajime’s hand in hopes of him brushing it through his hair, casually putting his hands in Hajime’s for him to massage them like he does for him once in awhile, well aware that Hajime also enjoys exploring his hands. 

Hajime trails his fingertips along the lines in Tooru’s palm, notes where his skin has hardened with use and where it’s still soft. He wants to lean down and kiss Tooru’s hand, or at least just let his lips graze over his palm, but he holds back, not willing to make a fool of himself in public.

“Are you going to read my palm?” Tooru asks innocently, and when Hajime looks up, pulled out of his daze, he raises an eyebrow in annoyance, trying not to blush when Tooru smirks not at all as innocently at him.

“It says you’re a fucking idiot,” he simply says, letting go of Tooru’s hand and putting both of his hands in his pocket, well aware that he’s pouting, because  _ ugh _ , why does Tooru always have to ruin the moment?

Tooru leans in, cupping Hajime’s jaw in an attempt to gain his full attention again and, for a second, his thumb grazes Hajime’s lip and Hajime’s throat goes dry as his mouth opens slightly. Tooru pulls his hand away with a tilt of his head and a thoughtful expression on his face.

 

To say that Tooru doesn’t take care of his hands  _ at all _ would be a lie – he is a setter after all, and a dedicated one at that. He always keeps his nails clean, short and filed to perfection. In fact, it is a habit of his to just sit and file his nails while they are hanging out at home doing nothing, to pull out the nail file and pull Hajime’s attention to his fingers once again, driving him mad in the process.

Hajime catches himself staring down at Tooru’s hands and looks up, but it’s already too late, Tooru’s eyes are already fixed on his, a knowing smirk on his lips. Hajime would be more embarrassed of being caught staring if it wasn’t for the fact that, more often than not, Tooru is staring right back at him. But there’s a difference between staring at your boyfriend for a bit too long during practice when he is covered in sweat and wearing tight-fitting shorts, and staring at his hands when you’re just sitting at home doing nothing. 

And worst of all, Tooru seems just as aware of this difference as Hajime.

“Do you have a thing for my hands or something?” Tooru asks shamelessly as he puts down the nail file, grabbing a wet wipe from the table right next to him, drying his hands slowly, covering his fingers with the tissue before pulling slowly at it as if he’s just being very thorough, staring at Hajime while doing so, making it obvious that he’s teasing him.

“N-no,” Hajime says and Tooru throws the tissue to the side and stands up, walking over to Hajime after hearing him deny it. Hajime’s initial reaction is to move away. He knows the look on Tooru’s face too well to think that this will bring anything but trouble, but Tooru’s eyes are pinning Hajime to the bed and Hajime can’t do anything as Tooru reaches out for him.

“You don’t like my hands?” Tooru asks, cupping Hajime’s face with both of them. 

“Uh, of course I do,” Hajime forces out even though his throat has gone dry and his instincts scream for him to run and hide, the smirk on Tooru’s face both alarming and ridiculously attractive,  _ dangerous _ . “But not more than any other part of your body,” Hajime lies, and applauds himself for how natural it sounds, because he’s not exactly a practiced liar, usually preferring the truth when it’s not about things like his extremely embarrassing fixation on Tooru’s  _ fingers _ of all things.

“Really?” Tooru asks, obviously not believing him, as he rests the tips of his right index and middle finger against Hajime’s mouth. Hajime purses his lips, kisses them softly, carefully, but before he has time to react, Tooru presses the fingers into Hajime’s mouth, opening it by force. Hajime lets him, though, opening his mouth and welcoming Tooru’s fingers, sucking at them slightly when Tooru presses them down against his tongue. 

Tooru sits down on the bed on Hajime’s left side, his hand still raised in front of Hajime’s mouth, his fingers never leaving it, and he uses his free hand to push up Hajime’s shirt from his back, hinting at Hajime to take it off completely. “Off with it,” he hums and Hajime complies instantly, lifts his own arms to do just that and pulls it off in one motion when Tooru pulls his fingers out of his mouth. The second Hajime’s t-shirt is discarded on his bed, Tooru leans in and kisses his only recently bared shoulder, trailing open-mouthed kisses up his neck before pressing his fingers back into Hajime’s mouth, this time even deeper. They don’t stay there for long this time, though, and he holds Hajime in place with his free arm resting on his shoulder, his now-wet fingers sliding down Hajime’s chest, the saliva making them shine as Hajime looks down himself. He continues sliding his fingers down Hajime’s side, playfully letting them graze his nipple and earning a slight shudder before continuing further, stopping and pressing against Hajime’s ribs, touching, exploring, as if it’s the first time he gets the chance to. Hajime leans his head against Tooru’s temple and Tooru is busy sucking at a specific point on his neck, which would normally drive Hajime crazy enough as it is, but the fact that Tooru’s fingers are digging into his ribs is demanding just as much attention from him. He’s confused, torn, as he tries to take it all in at once, and very turned on.

“Are you  _ sure _ you don’t have a thing for my fingers?” Tooru asks again, whispering it into Hajime’s ear, before sliding his fingers over Hajime’s abs, not stopping until he reaches Hajime’s already embarrassingly hard cock, cupping it over the fabric of Hajime’s pants and boxers as he nibbles at Hajime’s earlobe. 

“H-h-hah, no,” Hajime manages to force out and Tooru simply chuckles, looking through his very thin lie easily this time.

“I bet you’ve been having a lot of fantasies about what my fingers could do to you, haven’t you?” he purrs shamelessly. Hajime doesn’t reply, but a whimper escapes his lips when Tooru touches him again, his fingers grabbing half around his cock, as much as they’re able to through the two layers of fabric still separating them. Then, Tooru lets go completely and leans back, crawling over the bed towards the bedside table.

“Take off your pants,” he orders with no room for discussion, and honestly Hajime wouldn’t complain if he could, instantly standing up and pushing off his sweatpants as Tooru grabs the lube, lying down on the bed. Hajime eyes him curiously, but crawls closer when Tooru pats the spot next to him on the bed, indirectly asking Hajime to lie down next to him. Hajime does this again without protest, because Tooru is giving him  _ the look _ and Hajime can recognize a predator’s gaze when he sees one.

Hajime moves to lie down on his back, but Tooru pushes on his shoulder, rolling him over so he’s lying on the side, turning away from Tooru. He rests his head on Tooru's lower arm and Tooru would practically be spooning Hajime if they were just a bit closer. Tooru’s hand doesn’t stay still for a moment as he bends his wrist upwards, pressing his fingers into Hajime’s mouth, and Hajime opens it, coughing slightly when he realises that Tooru’s using  _ three _ fingers this time before opening his mouth wider so his teeth aren’t pressed against Tooru’s fingers. He sucks at them again when Tooru spreads them in his mouth, and only notices that Tooru has put his other hand to work when he realizes he’s pulling down Hajime’s boxers, despite still being completely clothed himself.

“Wrah arwh—“ Hajime begins to ask, but stops when he realizes that his words are unintelligible. Tooru reaches up and puts the bottle of lube in Hajime’s hands, holding out his free hand for Hajime to pour the lube out over his fingers. Hajime does so after clicking open the bottle, closing it again when Tooru begins spreading it in his hand, and Hajime tosses the bottle aside. He hums against Hajime’s ears again when Hajime presses his tongue between the fingers, his lips pressing against Hajime’s neck once more as he pours messy kisses over it. 

Tooru pulls his other hand down, out of Hajime’s sight, and Hajime’s breath hitches when Tooru presses his hand against his thighs, urging him to spread them slightly by moving one leg forward a bit.

“Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers?” Tooru asks lightly, as if he’s asking Hajime what he wants for dinner or something equally mundane, and he doesn’t get any reply, because Hajime’s mouth is full and Tooru already knows the answer anyway. He presses his fingers in between Hajime’s buttcheeks, the cold feeling of the newly applied lube making him yelp.

“Cw-cwold,” Hajime manages to force out around the fingers filling up his mouth, wincing and jerking his hips forward at the cold touch of the lube. Tooru simply chuckles, following his motion and teasing against Hajime’s entrance, not yet putting enough pressure to actually be near entering, instead simply dancing around it with two fingers, making Hajime feel both bared and impatient for more. Hajime can feel Tooru’s mouth on his neck, so he leans his head back, trying to make Tooru pull out his fingers. He only succeeds in getting them halfway out, gasping around them when Tooru suddenly presses his finger against Hajime’s entrance again, this time enough for his fingertip to enter.

“Do you like this?” Tooru asks as he lifts his head slightly from Hajime’s neck and the air touching his skin, wet with saliva, feels cold but nice. Hajime nods, reaching up and pulling Tooru’s fingers out of his mouth before grabbing the hand with both of his hands, pressing kisses over his palm before resting his lips against the heel of Tooru’s hand softly.

“You really do have a thing for my hands, oh my.” Tooru chuckles against his throat in a mix between disbelief and awe and Hajime realizes he’s watching him. He turns his face upwards and accidentally rams right into his chin. Tooru tilts back his head quickly, presses his finger further into Hajime. At this, Hajime gasps, pressing Tooru’s hand against his mouth to cover it. 

“Ha-ah,” is all Hajime manages to breathe out. He bites down on his lower lip as he gets used to the new sensation, Tooru’s digit pressing against his inner walls, only just grazing Hajime’s prostate before pulling out slightly, then pressing in even further, gaining another moan from Hajime as he stretches him out slowly, taking way more time than Hajime deems necessary.

Tooru is resting his shoulder against Hajime’s upper arm, face still bowed down and teeth grazing over Hajime’s neck before he bites down, just hard enough for it to hurt a little bit before he pulls back, licking at the now-sensitive skin. He blows on it, and the fresh air on his wet skin feels icy, but Hajime welcomes the sensation. 

It’s almost enough to distract Hajime’s attention until he realizes that Tooru has pulled his finger almost all the way out, pressing in the top of a second finger too. Hajime hisses.

“I’m going to make you cum with my fingers only,” Tooru whispers into his ear. Hajime can hear the smirk in his voice, as if he’s telling him about a prank he’s about to pull, before he presses his fingers in a bit further, curling them slightly as he stretches Hajime open.

“H-huh?” Hajime lets out the sound in disbelief, instantly reaching down to grab Tooru’s wrist, but Tooru holds Hajime’s hand back with his other hand. He presses both fingers in a bit further and makes Hajime’s whole body jerk involuntarily, moaning in pleasure.

Tooru doesn’t speed up, he slowly works his way inside Hajime, pushing in both fingers before pulling them out, working up a slow rhythm that is forceful enough to keep Hajime quivering, completely under Tooru’s control.

Tooru’s control lies in his hands: precision in the flick of his wrist,  at the tips of his fingers, and power in the base of his palm.

Tooru was born talented at using his hands, utilizing this in volleyball to give the best individual tosses to each person as a setter, but his perception of others and ability to bring out the most in everyone is something he has built up from the bottom, not something he was born with, a talent he perfected and polished to this day.

His touches aren’t that different, and Hajime is painfully aware that Tooru knows exactly how to use his hands on him in ways that affect him to an embarrassing extent. 

“Why my hands of all things, I don’t get it," Tooru says, chuckling as he presses his fingers against Hajime’s lips as if to silence him. "I mean, they can do this," he says and Hajime can  _ hear _ the smirk in his voice before he curls both of his fingers inside Hajime against his prostate. Hajime can’t help but cry out. "You're so sensitive today, too, is this really all I have to do to turn you into a mess?" Tooru chuckles, obviously enjoying tormenting Hajime like this.

Tooru builds up a rhythm after this, thrusting his fingers into Hajime ruthlessly, pressing against his prostate to the point where Hajime’s hips are constantly twisting, both desperate to get away from the overwhelming sensation Tooru’s finger are sending through his whole body and get closer to it, get more of the pulsing feeling that comes when Tooru presses  _ that _ spot just right. Hajime is barely aware of the sounds he’s making, small whimpers that he’d never let out under other, normal circumstances, but that he’s way too far gone to hold back by now. 

“This is a side of you only I get to see, right Iwa-chan?” Tooru asks sweetly before rubbing against Hajime’s prostate again, this time more determined. Hajime can only reply with another, even louder whimper, completely unable to form words at the moment. Tooru simply chuckles at that, and Hajime can feel his hot breath against his ear and jaw as Tooru works him up, spreads his fingers inside him, scissoring him.

Hajime is utterly helpless and they both know this by now. He’s so gone for Tooru and just the thought of his hands on Hajime,  _ in _ him; how often he’s been thinking of his fingers wrapped around his cock, around his  _ throat _ . He instantly reaches up and grabs the arm Tooru still has rested under Hajime’s head, almost as a pillow, and he pulls at it, brings it closer, puts it on his throat. 

It only takes a second for Tooru to realize what he wants, a curious hum escaping from his lips as he wraps his fingers around Hajime’s throat, curls them tighter around it, applying a slight pressure, but not enough to actually constrict Hajime’s airways or give him serious trouble breathing. Because Tooru’s touches are controlled, like always, but Hajime wants _more_ and he’s not as shy about asking for it as he had expected. He never really _expected_ Tooru actually indulging in his, uh, fixation on his hands and fingers except in his fantasies. So he grabs around Tooru’s fingers, throwing his head back slightly when Tooru curls his fingers against his prostate again and whimpers slightly, the sound coming out more raspy now that he’s pressing Tooru’s hand against his throat.

Tooru quickly understands what he’s asking for and tightens his grip. His other hand doesn’t slow down, though, rubbing his fingers against Hajime’s prostate, making the two powerful sensations pull at him from two very different parts of his body, two very different kinds of pleasures so overwhelming it’s painful. Hajime tries to blink, squeezes his eyes together to stop the stinging, but everything is just  _ too _ much and he can hear the sound of Tooru’s fingers hammering into him, almost fucking kneading at his prostate and his own hitching for breath, and no matter how hard he blinks, the stinging doesn’t  _ stop _ .

Tooru has somehow moved closer, further against him, his chest leaning in over Hajime’s shoulder as he leans down towards Hajime’s face, softly kissing the corner of his eye, licking the one traitorous tear that has escaped Hajime’s eyes. 

Tooru pulls his head back again with a chuckle, his chest vibrating against Hajime’s shoulder, and he loosens his grip around Hajime’s neck to let him breathe properly again. He stops massaging his prostate like he wants to kill Hajime right then and there, instead opting for something less overwhelming, scissoring Hajime and leaving him squirming slightly under him, but no longer shaking. Tooru rests his nose against Hajime’s ear, his lips open against Hajime’s jaw but not exactly kissing it or doing anything. He pulls his fingers out slightly again and Hajime doesn’t even feel embarrassed about his harsh inhale this time, still gaining his breath from no longer being asphyxiated. 

This time, Tooru presses in three fingers, and the fingertips go in almost without problem, because he’s spent a lot of time stretching Hajime already when scissoring him. When he pushes in further, Hajime twitches though, still trying to get used to it, but Tooru is merciless, and he’s aware of how just much Hajime can take, what his limits are. When he moves slightly closer, kissing at the crook of Hajime’s neck again while still working the three fingers inside completely – still at first joint, Hajime can feel him push in further towards second before pulling out slightly, pushing in again as he spreads Hajime open, his fingers now halfway in. 

Hajime is gasping for air as if his life depends on it and he  _ knows _ he should be embarrassed about reacting this violently to simply being fingered, but the thought of Tooru’s hands on him,  _ in him, _ is a lot. Too much, maybe even. Tooru knows Hajime too well. He builds up a rhythm just rigorous enough to keep Hajime on edge, unable to keep up.

Tooru fucks Hajime with his fingers, his other hand still busy on his throat as his teeth and tongue leaves a trail of marks and saliva down Hajime’s throat, pressing his tongue against the dip between Hajime’s collarbone and neck before leaning back up, returning his attention to Hajime’s throat. He moves his hand up to Hajime’s mouth again, pressing in only two fingers this time. Hajime sucks at them greedily, hollows his cheeks, whimpers around them when Tooru fucks him harder, more aggressively, all three fingers as deep inside Hajime as they can probably come. Tooru curls his fingers again, rubs at Hajime’s prostate, and Hajime yelps, the sound coming out choked around the fingers on Tooru’s other hand. It’s all too much, Hajime is just as much of a mess as Tooru said, and he wouldn’t complain if he could _. _

He moves his hips, presses down on Tooru’s fingers, desperate for  _ more,  _ and he feels Tooru’s own erection against his backside when he does so, suddenly remembering how neglected  _ Tooru _ must feel, both of his hands too busy on Hajime. Hajime thinks he  _ can _ relate a bit, because his own hard cock is throbbing between his legs and if it wasn’t for the fact that Tooru had ordered him not to, he’d probably reach down and finish it himself. Not that he’d last more than a few more seconds if he did so. So he perseveres, definitely not whimpering around the fingers in his mouth as Tooru continues fucking him with three fingers, chuckling against Hajime’s ear.

Tooru’s cock, on the other hand, is more impatient, and Hajime can feel him press it against Hajime’s ass, Tooru’s teeth insistent against his neck and throat again, before he moves his lips up to Hajime’s ear again. Hajime presses his hips down on Tooru’s fingers again, rubbing his ass against Tooru’s cock – still fully clothed, Hajime suddenly realizes – in the process.

“Fuck, I want to pin you down and fuck you on the spot,” Tooru  _ growls _ into Hajime’s ear, and Hajime’s own restraint is long gone, so he has absolutely  _ no  _ idea where Tooru’s originates from. He presses his ass against Tooru’s cock again, grinding against it and this time it’s Tooru who whimpers involuntarily into Hajime’s ears, pulling at Hajime’s cheek by hooking his fingers as a warning.

“The only thing holding me back is the pleasure of seeing you squirm underneath me like this,” Tooru continues to whisper, and he’s smirking again, the ferocity of his fingers inside Hajime growing as he both thrusts his fingers. He manages to find a position where he continues rubbing them against Hajime’s prostate whenever he pushes in completely, earning constant whimpers from Hajime that he has yet to keep from escaping his mouth. “And only from using my  _ fingers _ ,” Tooru chuckles, still in awe of how much effect his fingers have on Hajime. He continues in meticulously tearing Hajime apart, slowly pushing Hajime towards the edge of an orgasm, without even having touched himself or having had any attention on his cock whatsoever. It’s still throbbing between his legs eagerly, screaming for his attention but not rivaling the overwhelming sensation of Tooru’s fingers against  _ that _ spot inside him. 

Hajime is shaking and twitching under Tooru’s touch and he’s pretty sure that Tooru is  _ well _ aware of what he’s doing to him right now, the power he has over him. In fact, Hajime suspects he is enjoying it, ruining Hajime like this – actually he doesn’t even suspect it, he  _ knows  _ Tooru is enjoying it.

“P-please,” Hajime begs again, as he reaches down with one hand to touch himself. His legs are feeling wobbly and his head is spinning slightly, so close to the edge but not yet over it. Tooru pulls back the arm underneath his head, pulling out his fingers from his mouth, before pushing Hajime over so he’s lying on his stomach, unable to pump or even stroke his cock properly.

“No,” Tooru says calmly, obviously not up for discussion. He’s still fingering Hajime as fervently as before, his fingers rubbing against Hajime’s prostate whenever they’re pushed in completely, making Hajime unable to do much to fight back or do anything about being pushed down. 

Tooru pulls Hajime’s other hand out from under his chest, as far away from his throbbing erection as possible, before moving his hand back on Hajime’s back, pressing down between his shoulder blades instead, holding him down. 

“Please, please, please,” Hajime begs, grinding down against the mattress, too desperate for  _ any _ form of friction to care anymore. He feels the heat pooling in his abdomen and his legs are shaking in desperation as he’s pushed over the edge, his whole body pulsing as he comes,  _ hard,  _ directly onto the mattress that he’s still pressing his hips down against, no longer moving as his back arches, his whole body drawn like an arrow. Tooru  _ still _ doesn’t stop fingering him as Hajime cries out, pressing his face into the pillow, his hair sticking to his forehead, sweaty from exhaustion.

When the shockwaves die down and he falls down from the orgasm, Tooru pulls his fingers out slowly, carefully, drying them off on something Hajime can’t see when lying on his back. Not that he cares the least. He’s exhausted, and Tooru’s still hard next to him, pretty much vibrating with need. 

Tooru pushes down his jeans and boxers, tending to his own erection, jerking off right next to Hajime. When Hajime turns his head around to look at him, Tooru looks almost as gone as Hajime feels, his hair messy and sticking up, his clothes ruffled and disheveled. He comes in less than a minute, eyes fixed on Hajime as he comes without slowing down his pumps, moaning “Hah-Haji—“ before covering his mouth with his free hand, squeezing his eyes shut.

He then leans over Hajime’s back to the bed stand, grabbing some tissues to dry off his hand. He turns his attention back to Hajime, pulling out some more tissues and drying Hajime between the legs – Hajime can  _ feel _ the lube smeared clumsily all over his ass and he’d complain if he wasn’t still feeling like he was entirely made of jelly, still coming down from the best (and worst) orgasm he had ever experienced. Tooru nudges at Hajime’s arm for him to turn around and Hajime complies, not without grumpily sighing in complaint, but when he does, he realizes why as Tooru reaches over, drying off Hajime’s stomach from the cum smeared out. When Hajime looks down on the bed between them, he frowns at the mess, too tired to even consider cleaning up right now.

Tooru obviously has the same thought, because he lazily tries to dry it off the fabric with some tissues, throwing the curled up ones away before laying a new, clean tissue on top to cover up the spot, flattening it out.

“Problem solved,” Tooru says proudly, and Hajime would reach over and hit him if his whole body wasn’t heavy like he had been working out intensely for hours. Well, he has just been through  _ something _ very intense.

“Shut up,” Hajime mumbles, pressing his head into the pillow again, feeling the embarrassment return now that they’re done, the blush returning to his cheeks and ears.

“Iwa-chan, so mean to me even after I let you indulge in your obsession with my—“

“I said  _ shut up,” _ Hajime warns, lifting his head from the pillow just so the threatening tone comes across.

Tooru flops down next to him, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. “I’m reliving every handjob I’ve ever given to you but in a completely different light,” Tooru says, faux-appalled. Hajime grabs the nearest thing in reach – a pillow – and throws it at him.

**Author's Note:**

> you could almost say... tooru has him wrapped around his finger :^)
> 
> also thank you so much to my dear friend who read this for me and helped fixing it without shaming me in any way and who is just amazing in general and so good to me, too good to me


End file.
